


Wrapped

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artist/Author Collab, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, F/M, Orphans, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Romance, Second Chances, based on artwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: While preparing for the annual war orphans' Christmas party with an unexpected assistant, Hermione is reminded that what matters most is below the surface. Written for the Deck the Halls with Dramione Collab Advent.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 41
Kudos: 475
Collections: Deck The Halls with Dramione





	Wrapped

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart by DaniiiAnn: https://www.instagram.com/daniii_ann/
> 
>  _Author's Note:_ Hey everyone! I was prompted by this wonderful artwork by the lovely DaniiiAnn, and I hope you enjoy the story that came of it! Happy holidays friends xoxo
> 
> Thanks to LadyKenz347 for organizing these amazing artist/author collaborations, and for inviting me to participate. Also many hugs to my alpha Kyonomiko. 
> 
> _Disclaimer:_ This piece is fan-created work and I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Cold winter air brought colour into Hermione Granger's cheeks as she Apparated onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Years ago, the idea of such a thing would have drawn at old wounds―and it had, more than once.

But after nearly a decade of healing from the events of the war―and after befriending the lady of the Manor―Hermione felt only festive joy as she waited for the iron gate to allow her entrance.

Large, fluffy snowflakes landed in her hair, melting into droplets of moisture that clung to her curls and creating a halo of volume around her head.

At last the gate swung open, creaking on its hinges, and a smile tugged at her lips as she ventured up the extravagant walk towards the manor itself. A house elf clad in Malfoy livery stood in wait just inside the door as she entered, and not for the first time, Hermione wondered at such blatant opulence.

"Mistress Narcissa will join Miss Hermione shortly," the elf announced, dropping into a deep bow.

"Thank you, Konnor," she exclaimed, ducking down to meet the elf's large blue eyes. "I appreciate your hard work."

With a wary grin, Konnor backed away and vanished.

As Hermione perched on a straight-backed armchair in the welcoming parlour, all too aware of the ubiquitous stares of generations of deceased Malfoys within their gilded frames, she waited for the tell-tale click of Narcissa Malfoy's heels.

After several minutes, the woman entered the parlour, a soft smile on her face. "Hermione. Lovely as always to see you."

Hermione rose to greet the older woman in proper Pureblood fashion, as she had learned over the years, and smiled in return. "And you, of course―difficult to believe how close we are to this year's Christmas gathering!"

"Yes." Narcissa's blue eyes sparkled with warmth. "You have simply outdone yourself this year, as always. The War Orphans Foundation is lucky to have you."

"No more so than they are to have you spearheading the foundation." Hermione chuckled, eyeing the woman's formal dress robes. They would be heading into London to pick up the gifts for the orphans prior to the event. "Have I mixed up the date for our plans?"

When Narcissa's smile turned apologetic, Hermione froze.

"You're right," Narcissa mused, "however I double-booked myself by mistake this afternoon. I apologise for the mix-up, dear."

"Oh, not at all! I'll simply take care of the shopping myself."

"Nonsense." Narcissa waved a dismissive hand. "I've arranged for someone else to accompany you in my stead."

Hermione's throat felt thick and cumbersome as she managed a swallow, her smile plastered firmly on her face. "Of course."

Of all people, it couldn't be…

Draco Malfoy strolled into the room, clad in a charcoal button down and black trousers. He flashed a winning, if a little sardonic, smile across the room.

"Draco will be happy to accompany you," Narcissa announced, beaming as though it were the greatest solution in the world. She brandished her hands between the two of them.

As if theirs wasn't a past rife with controversy.

And while Hermione had been able to move into a comfortable working relationship with Narcissa Malfoy following the end of the war, the dynamic between herself and Draco had remained stiff and stilted.

"Excellent," Hermione announced.

Draco's eyes met hers across the room and he drawled, "Excellent," in return.

She couldn't tell whether he was mocking her.

But Merlin if the man hadn't aged like fine wine.

A hint of admonishment sat in Narcissa's eyes as she looked between them.

"I expect the pair of you to get along―remember, this is for a good cause."

Draco flashed his mother a beguiling smile that Hermione didn't quite believe. "I'm sure Granger and I will have a wonderful time. Won't we?"

"Quite," she murmured, turning back to Narcissa as she felt a dusting of warmth creep into her cheeks that had nothing to do with lingering hints of the cold. "I hope your prior engagement goes well. I'll be in touch with final preparations before the event this weekend."

"Lovely." Narcissa nodded, and from the corner of her eye Hermione watched as Draco shrugged on a fashionable peacoat and wrapped a grey scarf around his neck. "Thanks ever so, Hermione. I think it will be wonderful."

With that, the woman bustled from the room, leaving Hermione alone with Draco, whose eyes sat on her when she glanced his way. He tilted his head towards the door. "Shall we?"

Hermione offered him a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "I don't know what your mother threatened you with, but you don't need to accompany me today. I'm perfectly capable of shopping for the orphans on my own, and I can only imagine you have better things to do with your time."

"She didn't threaten me with anything." Draco ducked his chin, and Hermione's gaze flitted to meet his as she approached the door. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it―unless you don't care for the company."

"No!" she exclaimed, the word coming out a little heavier than intended. "No, that's quite alright. You're welcome to join me, I just don't mean to keep you from anything."

He swung the door open and gestured out into the snow. "Then after you."

A breath caught in Hermione's throat but she managed a tight nod. "Thank you."

* * *

Diagon Alley was already fully bedecked for the holidays, decorative garlands creeping up the lampposts and ostentatious wreaths on the doors of every shop.

Hermione felt mildly out of sorts as she walked along the cobbled path, Draco idly keeping pace at her side. She and Narcissa had been colleagues for a handful of years now, and every so often Hermione saw Draco―and on occasion, they even had cause to interact. But never had she gone anywhere _with_ him, and certainly not with any actual intent.

She could feel eyes on her. On an ordinary day it was often unavoidable, but as two notable figures in wizarding society, they drew eyes more than she would have liked. Or maybe she was simply overestimating the casual glances cast their way.

"So what are we purchasing?" Draco asked as he peered along the road towards a small commotion outside of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. "Toys and the like?"

Hermione rummaged in her coat pocket and drew a small coiled pad of paper from within, peering at the list she'd carefully drafted in advance. "Most of the children benefiting from the fundraiser lost either one or both parents at the Battle of Hogwarts―or in some cases, during the months preceding. Many of them are already Hogwarts-aged, and most have asked for items that will help them with their schooling."

"That isn't any fun," Draco said, clicking his tongue as he peered over her shoulder to scan the list. Hermione fought the urge to flinch away from his presence, her stomach fluttering at the unexpected proximity. "Textbooks and cauldrons... how drab."

Fixing him with a stern glance, Hermione felt a flicker of annoyance. "Many of these children don't have the means to afford brand new supplies each year. A lot of them have never had their own books."

A frown tugged Draco''s lips downward. "Look here―this one wants a broom. That's a better Christmas gift than a _stirring rod_."

"I agree with you," Hermione mused, "but the foundation has only set aside a certain amount of money for gifts. This annual Christmas event is a highlight for many of the orphans."

"I know it is," he conceded, shoulders sinking as he cast her a sidelong glance. "You and my mother have really made a difference in their lives."

Hermione softened, offering him a smile. "Thanks. I appreciate that. We try, anyway."

"All I'm saying," he went on with a grin, "is let me help out. We'll still get these necessities―but just maybe a couple extras."

Thinning her lips, she shook her head. "Fine. A couple extras."

* * *

Draco's alabaster complexion was flushed with the cold when he caught her eye an hour later, and Hermione couldn't help her wide grin in return. They'd been to Flourish and Blotts, Scribbulus, and the apothecary, before making their way towards Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Her mind buzzed with anticipation as she checked another name from the list. Draco had been a surprisingly proficient shopping partner, and they had completed nearly every request, sending stacks of parcels directly to Malfoy Manor for wrapping.

Hermione found herself oddly grateful to have him along when he ducked his chin. "We have to go to the joke shop."

" _You_ like Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Of course. Who doesn't?" If she wasn't mistaken, his shoulder nudged her own as they walked. "George Weasley is absolutely brilliant."

A bright skiff of laughter chased from her lips at the admission. "Never thought I'd see the day when _you_ championed a Weasley."

Draco's expression sobered, and for a brief instant, she wondered whether she had somehow offended him. When he spoke next, his voice was quiet. "The war was a long time ago, and I know I was a prat when we were younger. But I've grown up―or at least I hope I have―and that's included changing my perspective on just about everything."

Hermione had known as much, in the back of her mind, even if she and Draco had never had a proper conversation about the past. Lucius Malfoy's trial had been one of the most widely publicised and hotly contested of them all after the Battle of Hogwarts.

After Lucius' conviction, Draco had steadily sought to distance himself from the negative effects of his past Death Eater association, and as the years passed, he had proven himself to the wizarding world to be vastly different from his father.

To consistently strive for better―and to be a bright spot in society.

Even so, Hermione had never quite fallen into the admiration for the blond that many demonstrated.

Belatedly, she realised he was still watching her and she nodded, offering a smile. "Of course. I believe you've grown up―I think we were all forced to move on from our experiences in the war, if I'm honest. It wasn't really an option."

Draco's grey eyes darkened and his voice fell soft. "I think you're right."

"Anyway," she teased, tilting her head towards the bright orange monstrosity on the next corner. "You said you wanted to go to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? Let's go."

As they navigated through the crowd of eager patrons, Draco took hold of her arm and led her through the most direct pathway into the heart of the shop. No matter the day or time, the store always seemed to overflow with people.

George had certainly done well for himself, and most days when Hermione came by, Ron could be found working as well, having left Auror training to help out at the shop. And while she could still see Fred's loss implicit in George's eyes―in all of the Weasleys, even years later―he had learned to laugh again eventually.

Across the shop, George spotted her and gave an ostentatious wave, but he was trapped within a sea of customers and she simply waved in return. When George's gaze slid to her accomplice, his brows flying into his fringe and an innocuous look overtaking his face, Hermione felt a sting of colour rise into her cheeks at the insinuation.

"What did you have in mind?" Hermione asked, averting her attention back to her present company as they found a quiet section of the store. "Keeping in mind we shouldn't go overboard."

"I told you we aren't _going_ _overboard_ ," Draco drawled, his grey eyes glinting with mischief as he picked up a box of something she hadn't seen yet, "but this is on me. Never mind the foundation."

To Hermione's knowledge, Draco didn't work a proper job―but he also didn't wallow in his wealth. Aside from taking on small tasks in assisting with his mother's various charity organisations, he brewed medicinal potions for St Mungo's as a freelance potioneer.

"That's very generous of you," she said quietly as Draco began to fill a basket with items―one for each name on their list, as far as she could tell. "And I'm certain they will appreciate something fun."

Draco's eyes met hers, and she couldn't quite tear her gaze away. But he only nudged her in the arm and didn't say anything more.

* * *

As they idly paced the high street after a visit to the sweets shop―which was simply to satisfy Draco's own sweet tooth―she glanced down at her watch.

They had spent several hours in the shopping district, and while Hermione hadn't anticipated spending so long picking out gifts―and with Draco Malfoy, no less―she had enjoyed herself significantly more than she had expected. "Shall we go?" she asked, peering sidelong at him. "I can't imagine you intended to spend this long out with me. Especially as a simple favour to your mother."

While the words had been meant as a teasing jest, they fell a little more somber, and his lips tugged into a frown.

"My mother may have requested I assist you today, but as I said earlier, I'm happy to help." He dropped his chin, meeting her stare. "You probably have better things to do, given the event is this weekend, but if not perhaps you'd allow me to treat you to dinner."

The request caught her off guard, and she sucked in a startled breath. As though misreading her reaction, Draco glanced away, sweeping a hand through his hair. "You don't have to, of course."

"That sounds lovely."

And she couldn't help the way her heart stuttered in her chest when a slow, devastating grin dragged across his face.

* * *

Dinner with Draco Malfoy wasn't anything Hermione had ever thought she might experience, but he was perfect company. While she had suspected him to take her somewhere overpriced and showy, he instead selected a little restaurant off the main road with quirky decor and a unique and playful menu.

Hermione enjoyed herself―perhaps a little too much, if the way her stomach danced with butterflies the entire time said anything. The shared bottle of wine didn't help matters either, and her head swam with a light buzz by the time they left the restaurant and made their way back towards the Apparition point.

It was one of the nicest days she could remember.

Despite the fact that she hadn't planned on any of it―and Hermione was keen on plans, lists, and schedules.

Somehow none of that mattered as he turned towards her, his tongue darting out to brush his bottom lip. "Thanks for allowing me to accompany you on your shopping trip." A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Today felt like a brief glimpse into the world of Hermione Granger."

Whether it was the wine or something else, a streak of courage chased through her. "And did you enjoy it?"

His voice lowered. "I did."

"Good." Adrenaline raced through her veins as she stared at him, uncertain where they stood with one another. She wasn't in a rush to Apparate home, despite the mile-long to-do list that still faced her in preparation for the event on Saturday. She offered him a smile. "I enjoyed myself as well. Thank _you_ for joining me. I think it will be a special Christmas for the orphans."

Draco lifted a hand, his fingers curling around her shoulder, and he gave a gentle squeeze. "Get home safe. I'll see you on Saturday. Unless there's anything else I can help with in the meantime."

Hermione couldn't tell whether the words carried any other hidden meaning, but she drew in a deep breath, forcing her gaze away from the sharp lines of his jaw. "I think it's just final details at this point. We should be alright."

"Excellent," he murmured, a quiet purr dancing across her skin. "Then I look forward to Saturday."

She released a shaky breath and nodded. "Saturday."

Drawing all that remained of her willpower, she Apparated home.

* * *

By the time Saturday dawned, Hermione had checked and double-checked each component of the arrangement for the war orphans' Christmas party. The venue, the caterers, and the music had all been confirmed, and Hermione and Narcissa had owled back and forth so much that her hand had begun to seize.

But she was certain it would be their best Christmas event yet.

Nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach, and while she attempted to dismiss them as pre-event jitters, Hermione couldn't help but think that at least some of them were connected to the fact that she would see Draco again. And after their lovely day and meal together earlier in the week, she found she was quite looking forward to it.

She hadn't found cause to reach out to him despite the offer of help, and she had been so busy making sure everything was prepared that she had largely been able to put the day from her mind.

She smoothed a wrinkle from her favourite knitted jumper, tucked a curl gone awry into place, and Apparated to the grounds of Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa had arranged a hall for the venue, but Hermione had offered to transport the gifts―and she couldn't suppress the thought that it would likely mean seeing Draco once more. And in fact, when she stepped into the grand foyer of the manor, he waited just inside, clad in a cabled black jumper. His pale hair was swept back in a fashionable style and her nerves flared to life upon seeing him.

"Hello," Hermione said with a smile, offering a nod. She couldn't help but recall the afternoon and evening they had spent together, and found familiar warmth in his stare.

"Hi," he said mildly, reaching for her coat as she shrugged it from her shoulders. "Nice to see you again."

"And you." Colour threatened up her neck and into her face and she quickly averted her gaze. "Is your mother here?"

Draco offered a shrug, looking around. "She's around here somewhere. Hard to keep track of her sometimes."

Biting down on her bottom lip to quell a smile, Hermione clasped her hands together. Despite their easy conversation several days prior, the air between them felt tense now, and she shifted on the spot.

"Would you care for tea?" Draco asked, brows lifting high on his forehead. "I could arrange for a pot, if you're so inclined."

Hermione glanced at her watch. "I should probably collect the gifts and get them to the venue," she said softly, reticent to decline the offer but they had a schedule to keep. When his expression faltered―only briefly―before his polite smile returned, she hastily added, "Perhaps we have time for a quick cup?"

His smile shifted into something that brought her heart to life in her chest. He spoke into the otherwise empty room. "Konnor, will you please prepare a cup of tea for Hermione and myself? I believe you know her preference."

Konnor snapped into the room, startled eyes fixed on Hermione as he offered an uneasy smile. "Yes, Master Draco, Konnor knows."

The elf vanished away with another small pop before Hermione could address him, and she offered Draco a self-deprecating chuckle. "I don't think he's fond of me."

"You have something of a reputation, or so I hear," Draco obliged. But a crooked grin split his face. "Something about knitted hats."

Hermione snickered, shaking her head. "It was years ago. I haven't tried to free any unwitting elves since Hogwarts."

"You know how they are." Draco waved a hand, leading her into the manor. "They never forget a thing, and they don't let go of grievances either." In the next room, Hermione spotted a bright pile of carefully wrapped gifts in a wide range of patterned paper, adorned with shimmering bows and ribbons.

A tight breath caught in her throat. "These look wonderful." When Draco pressed his lips together, she turned towards him, incredulous. "Did _you_ wrap all of these?"

With a nonchalant shrug, he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. "Mother kept saying it was on her list but I thought it was the least I could do to help." His grey eyes slid to hers, a quiet sparkle in his gaze. "Something about wrapping gifts by hand always gets me into the Christmas spirit."

" _You_ ," Hermione hedged with a smile, "are a master gift wrapper."

The bridge of his nose scrunched up in a way that caused her heart to riot. "Anyway, one less thing for you to worry about."

"Thank you," she said softly, "it's much appreciated."

Konnor popped into the parlour with a small silver cart and a full tea service, complete with biscotti. After he dutifully prepared two cups of tea and vanished once more, Hermione took at a seat on the sofa, sipping her own piping hot mug.

"As you like it, I hope?" Draco asked as he took a loud crunch of his biscotti. Hermione couldn't help the bright burst of mirth that slipped free, and he offered an amused smirk in return.

"Perfect." As she opened her mouth to make a quip about his noisy eating, she heard the click of Narcissa's heels on the hard floor as she entered the parlour.

"Oh good, you're here already." Narcissa was as elegant as ever, her blonde hair pinned into a delicate coif with a set of light blue dress robes. The woman always made Hermione feel implicitly under dressed, even when the event was casual in nature.

"Yes!" Hermione set her tea on the end table. "I understand everything's in order?"

A demure smile sat on Narcissa's lips. "Merlin willing. Draco's offered to help you transport the gifts, yes?"

Hermione's eyes widened with surprise as she opened her mouth but Draco spoke first with a smooth, "Of course."

"Perfect. I will see you both at the venue shortly, then." The woman paced from the room, leaving the pair of them alone once more.

Finishing the last of her tea, Hermione rose to her feet. "You certainly don't need to―"

"Nonsense." His tone brokered little room for argument as he stood as well. "As I told you before, I'm happy to help."

Before Hermione could make a move, he retrieved both of their coats, and as Hermione slipped on her own, Draco collected the odd assortment of gifts into his arms, leaving her with only a few. She fired him a look, about to object that she was _more_ than capable of carrying the gifts, thank you, when he spoke again from around a precarious pile of gifts nearly up to his eyes.

"You'll have to Apparate us to the venue. I'll get us through the manor wards."

Hermione released a tight breath, fighting a smile as she slipped her hand through his awkwardly extended elbow to side-along them both. "Fine."

* * *

Entering the venue with Draco Malfoy at her side felt both disconcerting and oddly exhilarating. Hermione could feel eyes on them, and within herself, she found she didn't mind.

If anything, she had somehow developed an interest in him during their recent time spent together, and butterflies chased a celebratory dance in the pit of her stomach at the thought. The secretive warmth in his gaze only exacerbated the situation.

"Where am I setting the gifts?" he asked quietly, still balancing the precarious stack in his arms.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, extracting her hand from the crook of his arm. "Tree."

"Tree." Draco scanned the hall, and ventured in the direction of the massive decorated fir at one end of the hall.

The earliest attendees of the event mingled and drifted about the hall. Many of the youths were already present, assorted family and support alongside as well as contributors to the foundation, and Hermione waved at several people as they walked by.

Only Draco Malfoy could make the task of setting a cumbersome stack of boxes onto the floor look elegant, and he arranged the gifts artfully beneath the tree before rising at her side again.

Hermione wondered whether he would leave her to her own devices when he turned towards her, a soft tilt to his head. "Your party looks fabulous. Shall we?"

She couldn't hold back the smile. "We shall."

* * *

If Hermione had already thought she was interested in Draco, she hadn't seen him with the children. Never mind that his extra additions to each of their gifts had been a raucous hit―many of the orphans had already opened their gifts from the joke shop and were sharing them around―but he had a natural way with the younger crowd.

Hermione hoped to have children of her own one day, and she would be lying to say she wasn't affected watching him interact with them. A group of the Hogwarts-aged youths and a few younger―including his own cousin, Teddy Lupin―had gathered around Draco as he regaled them with stories of his days playing Quidditch for Slytherin.

Watching from a distance, she snagged her bottom lip between her teeth.

When his gaze flicked up to catch hers, a tantalising warmth in the cloudy grey, her stomach clenched tightly and blood rushed to her cheeks.

Narcissa sidled up alongside, a curious smile on her face as she observed Draco surrounded by a rapturous group of children and teens. "He's quite the hit, isn't he," she mused softly, eyes lingering on Hermione. When she caught the older woman's stare, wondering at the meaning behind the words, Narcissa went on. "He's always been good with children."

Hermione glanced away. "He's certainly caught their attention."

"Perhaps, not only theirs." A teasing note hung in the words, and Hermione managed a tight swallow. But Narcissa simply inclined her head into a contemplative tilt. "Of course, I wouldn't dare assume."

Then she strode away, leaving Hermione to suck in a deep breath of fresh air.

* * *

"Your event was a success, as far as I could tell," Draco said as he joined her outside of the venue when Hermione stepped out for air. The guests had already begun to dissipate, and the majority of her efforts had come to an end for another year. "It's impressive―all the work you do to help out."

Hermione released a long breath, leaning on the wrought iron fence that spanned the perimeter of the property. "I always hope it isn't for nothing, but I know it isn't. These children had a rough start to life, and I think no child should have to lose their parents so young. And to such senseless violence."

Draco's lips tugged into a sober frown. "You're right. I know it's why Mother strives so hard to make a difference now."

She could see the words he didn't care to speak―or maybe couldn't speak. "You're making a difference too," she offered softly. "I know you are. You aren't the boy you used to be."

His lips thinned as he released a breath through his nose. "Thanks, Granger. Most of the time it doesn't feel like enough."

"I can assure you it's more than you think."

As he leaned forward, resting his arms on the rail, his shoulder brushed her own. "All day I kept trying to put myself in the shoes of those children. And I think it's wonderful that they have someone like you who cares enough to try and give them a better life."

Hermione felt a bittersweet smile tug at her lips, even as her eyes stung with moisture. "Thank you. I just―I always think of Harry and the way he had to grow up, unloved and mistreated, because his parents died as a result of such miserable, unending hate. And I wonder how things might have been different for him if he had known someone cared. Even just in something as simple as an extra gift under the tree with his name on it."

Draco's gaze sat on her, searing through her, but she pressed on with a watery chuckle. "Your additions were a hit. The kids loved them."

A half-hearted smirk dragged across his lips. "I told you they would."

"You'll have to help me with the gifts again next year," she suggested, the words catching on a breath. Then to dispel the sudden tension, she added, "I'll hire you as a Consulting Gift Expert."

He released a bark of laughter. "I do know a thing or two about gifts. Although something tells me none of those kids today would have given a damn about crystal cufflinks."

Hermione tittered, surreptitiously swiping at a tear that threatened at the corner of her eye. "Why am I not surprised that you received crystal cufflinks as a child?"

Draco snorted, a smile lingering on his lips. "Because you've met my father."

"You're nothing like him." The words slipped from her mouth as a whisper, and he ducked his chin, eyes seeking hers once more. "Today proved it―your efforts for years have proven it."

His throat bobbed with a swallow as he stared at her. "I think," he breathed, "you have the best heart of anyone I've ever known."

The admission drew a sharp intake of breath, and her heart stuttered in her chest before galloping into a sprint.

Sufficiently lost for words as he turned towards her, Hermione sought the newly familiar warmth in his stare, seeking the comfort she had come to rely on in only a few short days. Her heart clamoured up towards her throat at what she found in his eyes.

"I've admired you for a long time," Draco said quietly. "I just never thought you'd give me a chance."

"I never knew you wanted a chance," she whispered, a furrow knitting her brows.

The cold stung against her cheeks but blood rushed through her veins, a dull roar behind her ears as she curled her fingers into the collar of his jumper. And before her courage could falter, she drew him in.

His lips met hers, soft but firm, and Hermione's eyes fluttered shut when he kissed her back, one hand trailing the length of her spine as he dragged his fingertips along her cheekbone and back into her hair. Melting into him, Hermione deepened the kiss, her heart racing as his tongue grazed hers.

When they finally broke apart, her breaths falling heavily, she blinked at him for a moment.

A wry smile curled his lips as his fingers played idly along her jaw before his hand fell to his side. "I will take as many chances as you're willing to give me."

A quiet, tentative sort of happiness gripped her heart, hope swelling within her and seeping into her veins.

"I might need a few myself," she breathed, pressing up on her toes to brush her lips against his once more. The stormy grey in his eyes sparkled from the light within. "But I'm sure we can work something out."

He grinned, with a low, "I'm confident we can," and drew her in again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and be sure to check out DaniiiAnn's insta for the rest of her beautiful artwork!


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